Insomniac
by undercoverraccoon
Summary: "When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything's far away." Being naturally drawn to the supernatural, most of the time, Willow doesn't even know what she's doing, and if she does: ignorance is a bliss. Stiles/OC. Rated T for terrible.
1. The Routine

There weren't many things that Willow Maker was sure of these days. But one of the few things that she knew she could absolutely rely on at all times were her instincts. Her intuitions. That little tingling sensation that titillates in her finger tips at the most inconvenient times. Or the pure instinct to get out of wherever she was.  
Now, to say that she _liked_ to react to everything instinctively would be an untruth; but in the end, it's all she's got.

Willow doesn't get along with her head. With thoughts, pros and cons, contemplating the options and acting in favour of the most logical conclusion. If it was up to her, she would have to take an eternity to get her thoughts sorted and act accordingly. Her mind wasn't clear and structured like people claimed it normally was supposed to – frankly, Willow was beginning to think of this concept as a myth; her mind was a fog. It wasn't worth investing the time. Her guts were quicker; and to be honest, most of the time, it does turn out as the right thing to do.

Today, she wasn't too sure about it. Sometimes it gets to a point where she can't distinguish between what her guts say and what she thinks they would say. Did this even make sense? As always, she wasn't sure. But it tingled in her finger tips and made her wind in her bed again. She wasn't surprised at herself being awake anymore and she didn't bother to check on the time. All that mattered for her at this point were three facts: It was night time; she couldn't sleep and she probably wouldn't in the near future, either. Not that this was up to her in any way.

Again, she turned, and this time she sat up to flip her pillow over and lay back down on its cool side. Shoving her hands under the soft material of her flannel bedsheets didn't make the tingling go away – as always. She had started feeling this the second she had set foot back into this little, nostalgic town and it was gradually growing to annoy the hell out of her. With a swift movement, she removed the soft winter duvet from her body and shivered for a second at the cold air surrounding the comfortable bubble of her bed. She had almost forgotten that the heating in this house wasn't working yet. Wrinkling her nose in some kind of annoyed disappointment, she bent over and grabbed the navy cotton shorts that she had tossed off her body earlier. Without lifting her feet, she strode over to her still packed suitcase and grabbed an oversized burgundy jumper from the very top of it to put it on while her feet directed her out of her room. It wasn't exactly her choice; hell, she didn't even know where she was going. She descended the stairs silently, slipped half-heartedly into her black sneakers (ignoring her striking, pulled-up socks) and held the jingling keys in her hand, not caring too much about her sleeping father and brother upstairs. She didn't look back once as she followed down the road, all led by the growing tugging that was slowly, continuously creeping up to her elbows.

* * *

The night was as dark and cold as Willow could have expected it to be if she had used her brain for once. Caught up in the obscure daze of her head, she continued to follow her instincts only and didn't really feel the cold embracing the goose bumps of her exposed legs. She didn't know if she was supposed to be surprised by the place that her feet were leading her. The ring of house keys were aggressively jingling in her shaking hands as the feeling that had originated as a soft, unpleasant tingle had gradually turned into little lightnings, striking from her finger tips through her nervous system up to the very top of her shoulders. For the first time that night, after a walk that must have lasted at least forty-five minutes, Willow's thoughts didn't seem as distorted as they usually did.

"What the hell is happening," she mumbled to herself, looking down to her arms and hands in her oversized jumper that were completely out of control. It wasn't the cold causing this, that she was sure of for once. She lifted her head, ignoring the tangled mess of her hair and looked up to the building whose parking lot she had arrived at.

"Beacon Hills High," she whispered to herself and tilted her head in slight confusion. This confusion vanished when she discerned a small movement to her right and looked down to a man lying in the shadows. She hadn't noticed him before, and now that she had, she jumped clumsily to the left, instinctively trying to get some space between her and the creepy man. That was until she took a closer look. He was sitting on the ground (actually rather lying), leaning against a car and holding his obviously hurt chest. Catching his sight, she tilted her head and crouched down to be on his eye level. His fierce green eyes had long caught sight of her and she could see it in his eyes that he was struggling to speak.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed between his heavy breathing and immediately flinched at the pain emerging in his chest. Willow pursed her lips in concern when the wind moved the clouds and allowed the moonlight to brighten the man in front of her – revealing the crimson blood that was all over him. This was why she was here.

"Get out of here. Now!" he ordered firmly but Willow didn't care to listen. Instead, she looked back up to his glazed green eyes and softly shook her head, setting a little lopsided smile onto her face.

"You look like you could need some help."

Derek Hale had expected a lot of different ways that this night might have turned out in. What he most certainly had not expected was absolutely everything that had happened in the end. The vet had disappeared, or probably just turned into his alpha form; the two god damn idiots had lured the danger right into the school and all he had done in the past ten minutes was getting his body in a more or less upright position and trying not to bleed out, pushing the healing process. And now, on top of all this frustration, who or whatever was responsible for this freak show, had decided to put another innocent right into the fray. The russet doe-eyes glaring at him in annoying goodness and fatigue, blinked a few times as she held her hand out to him. Derek kept his eyes on the offering hand for a few seconds before looking back into the tiredly observing eyes. The dark circles around her eyes were immense – hell, they were actual circles – and her gaze seemed like the one of an office worker who's had enough of his job after 20 years of filing the same documents on the same computer for the same salary.

"Didn't you listen?" he spat weakly. "Go. Now. I can handle myself, get out of here right now!" His eyes jumped to and fro, worry and guilt growing inside of him. He had no idea where the alpha was and every second of this girl just _being_ here was another second he jeopardized another life. And hell, he's got enough of that on his account.

Willow sighed tiredly as she dissolved her crouching position and instead shifted into sitting cross-legged in front of the hot-tempered man. She saw that this – unfortunately – wouldn't be as easy as she had hoped it would – but she couldn't just walk away. By now, she knew that walking away wouldn't restore her peace but instead nag her even more. She noticed happily that the unpleasant tingling in her limbs had completely faded as she unapologetically placed a hand on the man's leg that she was sitting next to and looked him in the eyes.

"Don't worry about me, alright? I know what I'm doing here. At least kind of." Note that this was an utter lie. "This is not the first time I'm doing this, and believe me, I'd prefer to lie in my bed right now and stare at the ceiling, instead of wandering around the town, looking for injured men. It's cold as hell, I can't feel my legs and I get the feeling that you are probably far worse off. Just assuming here, no offense. Now, _what_ ever you are, pushing me away won't solve the matter we're having here right now, so _please_ take my hand and let me help you. It'll all be over soon enough and we can get back to living our lives. Please?"

Willow couldn't read what was going on in the stranger's overly expressive eyes but she hoped that he would let her get him out of here, into safety – wherever that was supposed to be – and then return to her warm, comfortable bed. He let out a reluctant snort and stared daggers into Willow's exhausted expression, trying to estimate the danger that this girl was emitting. Willow sighed again, feeling sorry for herself and her stupidity. She shouldn't have dropped the 'whatever-you-are' bomb, seeing his now hostile tenseness. It reminded her of a wild, cornered animal.

"I'm not the bad guy, okay?" she whispered softly and stroked the leg under her hand with her thumb, like she uses to when her dog acted like this. She didn't even feel bad for actively comparing this man to her dog; apart from the fact that she was saying random standard phrases. She didn't know if there even was a bad guy to begin with. But then on the other hand, what had left this man with these kinds of injuries?

"What are _you?_ " he asked tensely, observing her every move while trying to sit up farther. Arising entirely was out of the question at the moment, as he had to focus on the girl in front of him. She blinked slowly before planting another half-hearted smile onto her face.

"Concerned. Come on." She rose in a flowy movement and threw one of her legs over Derek's body, now standing above him and bending down, attempting to tuck her arms under his armpits to lift him up. He sent her a vicious snarl at this attempt and made her sigh again, squatting again and meeting his eyes on an equal level.

"If you haven't noticed, I am unarmed," she mentioned, gesturing to the only things she had on her: her navy shorts and her oversized jumper. Derek sent her a pointy look, making her moan in annoyance. With a swift move, she lifted her red jumper, revealing nothing but a stomach and a giant scar that Derek left unmentioned. No weapons. She dropped the jumper as she continued: "As well as physically fragile and altogether defenseless. If anyone should worry about their safety, it's me." The side of his nose twitched for a second as he sent the keys in her hand a suggestive glare. "Oh please, I need them to get back home," she mumbled under her breath, suppressing another groan and keeping herself from leaving the man right here and stomping back home. She had placed her hands under his arms again, noticing the lack of resistance.

"I can do that myself." He brushed her off with one of his hands, leaving a nice stamp of blood on her jumper. Willow internally thanked her mindlessness for picking exactly this jumper. Red on red goes unnoticed. She stepped away from him, watching the poor guy as he stubbornly tried to get to his feet on his own, painfully slowly at that, and without leaving Willows gaze once. This one was a very, very suspicious one. It didn't take long for him to lose his balance, making Willow serve as his loyal crook.

* * *

"To the left," Derek instructed flatly while stubbornly looking out of the window, holding another wince at the cough that left his throat. "The other left," he added annoyedly, making Willow twitch for a second before trying to undo her mistake. Out of necessity, she was driving his car, transporting him to wherever he needed to go. She had expected an apartment or house or… any building. Not the woods in which she has been driving around for at least 10 minutes.

"Care to explain what left you there half-dead?" She sucked at small talk, and that big time. But it felt better than the menacing silence that Derek emitted. She turned her head over to Derek for his response and abruptly hit the brakes at the sight of his unsupported, dangling head.

"Hey, hey!" she called out, a wave of heat overflowing her body. She undid her seatbelt to bend over to him and gently slap his cheeks, trying to get him back to consciousness. "No, no, no, no." She had to actively pull herself together to not become hysterical – ignoring the fact that she already had. She rushed out of her seat to run around the car and yank the door to Derek open, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him back and forth.

"Open your eyes, open your eyes, open your eyes!" she shouted at him. "Okay, alright," she said agitatedly, seeing that this was no use; jumping back a few steps and jumping up and down, trying to brace up. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," she apologised as she punched him right in the face.

His eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply, not being able to comprehend what had just happened. Willow stood still, petrified in her post-punch posture, a relieved disbelief in her eyes. "Thank bloody god," she exhaled, looking over Derek to make sure he wouldn't faint anytime soon again. "You need to stay awake, alright?" she asked, catching his confused gaze. "Whatever tiredness you feel, you need to resist. I need you stay awake. Talk to me, look at me, count my freckles or insult me, it doesn't matter. Just do _anything_ to stay with me, okay?"

"Did… Did you throw a punch at me?" The menacing tone in his voice, however weak it was, made her slowly walk a few steps back, stiffly holding the scary gaze of his unforgiving green eyes.  
"Let's uhm, let's get going, shall we?" She chuckled nervously as she suddenly broke his gaze and stomped back to the other side of the car. She was not going to admit that. Nope.

* * *

"So… I won't get an answer, will I?" she asked quietly, not really expecting any response. It wasn't so much Derek unwilling to answer her but rather him being unable. He had led her to his family house in the middle of the woods; reluctantly, but Derek grew desperate. His wound didn't heal as it was supposed to, given the fact that it was caused by an alpha's claws and the only medical tools he knew of were in his house. It got easier for him to stay awake, and as much as he hated the idea of this annoying girl kneeling in front of him, bandaging his wounds, she was the only thing that he had right now. Whatever had sent her, be it coincidence, destiny or a higher force, Derek couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. It wasn't him who needed the help; the alpha was in the school, alongside some dorky teenagers. But he also couldn't let her enter the damn school, being bound to die.

"Personally, I'm not a fan of small talk," she continued, rather talking to herself.

"Then why don't you ever shut your-" Derek was interrupted by a cough that erupted from the back of his throat.

"Hey, easy, easy," Willow soothed him, placing her hand at the side of his neck and looking up to him with concern radiating in her russet eyes. The itchy burning in his throat faded and left him as exhausted as before. With a final glance at his facial expression, to make sure he wouldn't cough anytime soon again, she attended her attention back to his bare chest and the stitches with which he had closed his wound. Patching it all up with a big bandage, she stepped back and looked at her work. Though, indecisively.

"You sure you don't want to go to a hospital?" she asked for the fifth time.

"Very damn sure."

"And you will be alright?"

"Yes."

Willow wrinkled her nose and tilted her head at the grumpy man sitting in front of her on the staircase of this abandoned house. She couldn't figure out what kind of place this was and she wasn't eager to, either. She knew this was the part where she left and never saw him again. She knew the procedure. But she had never been drawn to someone in such a catastrophic state.

"Do you have a phone?" she asked suddenly, making Derek rise his head and meet her tired gaze.

"What?"

"Do you have a phone?" she repeated slowly, making Derek angry again before he averted his eyes with a snort and spat a simple 'no'. He needed her gone, as fast as possible. He could feel his wound healing and this wasn't a place for her to be. She nodded slowly.

"Then pen and paper?" She was a persistent one, and Derek didn't know if he should be thankful or not. Despite his averted face, his eyes found hers and saw surprisingly not only tiredness in them but a certain determination that said she wasn't going to let go of this matter. He was not in the state to discuss such disputes. He nodded to a little table that was standing a few meters to the left and Willow followed his offer to see a little notebook sitting in the dust. With a winning smile, she walked over, grabbed the book and its pen and scribbled into it while walking back to Derek who had risen from his almighty throne on the stairs and was now standing right in front of her. She ripped the page out and handed it to the tall man.

"That's my address. If you need anything or if my bandaging isn't sufficient or you bleed out again or whatever, just come there." Derek stood silent, looking at the note and then at her. They held each other's gazes for a while, making Willow incredibly uncomfortable. She nodded slowly and made small steps toward the door, constantly under Derek's uncomfortably judging eyes. Bloody god, she hated his creepy staring and it made her blather again.

"I'm Willow, by the way." She was almost out of the door as she said that, only to disrupt the horrible silence that Derek, however, upheld. She quickly threw a 'bye', waving her hand awkwardly and making her keys jingle, and then sprinted away. The second she had left, Derek collapsed back onto the staircase and breathed as heavily as his body had been demanding him to all this time. He wasn't in the state to make sure she would find her way home by herself. But given the fact that she had found her way to _him_ just as well, indicated that she wouldn't have any problems. He took a look at the crinkled piece of paper that was clutched in his fist before. She was an idiot for giving him her address.

* * *

Exhaustion started to sweep over her shivering body and this time she knew that it was no mysterious tingling feeling that caused it. She was cold and rubbed her arms under the red jumper as she walked down the road. If there was one thing that Willow always found, then it was the way back. She always remembered where she came from and she thanked her one and only talent dearly, especially right now. She had no idea what time it was but her burning eyes demanded to close and finally go to sleep, indicating it must have been at least four in the morning. She barely ever felt tiredness before this hour but this time she had to pull herself together and keep walking. She was slowly drifting back into the familiar daze.

Flashing lights caught her attention and made her snap back into reality, glaring at the car that had stopped next to her. She had to squint her sensitive eyes at the light and finally raised her hand to protect her sight. It was a police car; this fact confused her but she didn't want to complain. She could see the deputy inside talking to her but in her state, she didn't understand him until he got out of his car and walked up to her.

"Willow Maker?" he asked, making her blink in confusion and taking a few steps back.

"Yes?" she answered hesitantly, not entirely sure of this situation. The deputy however seemed relieved and relaxed his shoulders as he took a few gentle steps towards her and supported her with an arm.

"Please come with me." It sounded more like a plead than an order, so Willow nodded uncertainly and sat down on the passenger seat, observing the deputy's relaxed facial features as he started the engine. He grabbed the little radio from his dashboard and started talking into it in code, using several numbers that Willow wasn't familiar with. What she did understand however, was him telling his colleagues that he had found her. She averted her eyes from the deputy and tried to focus on her fingers in her lap instead, trying to escape the exhaustion. She slowly touched all her fingers with her thumb, again and again until the effort needed to focus eased out.

"How did you end up in the middle of the road, Willow?" He looked at her for a second while he was driving and noticed quickly that she wasn't going to answer him. He looked down on her, clearly not being dressed properly and having some dirt sticking to her clothes here and there. "What happened to you?"

"How do you know my name?" She completely ignored his questions and concerns, feeling like hers were more important. He looked at her for only a second before a little smile found his lips that she did not reflect.

"Your father stormed the station a couple hours ago and reported you as missing. We've been looking everywhere ever since." She looked at him in comprehension, biting her lip nevertheless. She hadn't spent a single thought to the possibility that her family might notice her being away. And even if they did, Willow certainly didn't expect them to instantly call the police. But then, however, she also understood why they had. So, she just nodded in agreement and remained silent for the rest of the ride.

* * *

She would never admit it but she dozed off several times, waking up only a second later to her head that had fallen to the side, just like Derek's only an hour ago or so. Except that he didn't snap out of it a second later again. She could feel the car slowing down and curiously opened her eyes, expecting to see the front porch of her house; but instead she gasped silently at the sight in front of her.

"Beacon Hills High," she read for the second time this night and pursed her lips in concern at the sight of the many police cars and ambulances that were stuffed on the parking lot, brightening the night with their many lights. She swiftly turned her head to the deputy that sighed a little but tried to uphold his polite smile.

"You're not the only incident we're having tonight. Busy night." She looked back at the scenery in front of her, quickly leaving the vehicle and standing next to it, using it to support her balance. Her heart beat fastened and the fog of her mind cleared a little, only to give room to loads and loads of nasty concerns. She had been here already this night but she thought that the man she had found had been the reason. What did she miss? She clearly missed something bloody important, otherwise this mess wouldn't be taking place. She frantically looked around for any casualties but could neither find anyone injured nor any tingle in her fingertips. Without thinking, she had started walking, merging with the chaos of people. Where was her father? Her brother? Anyone she knew?

A hard but familiar thump against her bum made her turn around quickly and look into the most familiar brown eyes.  
"Echo!" she called relieved and kneeled down to her Labrador lady, only for her to jump around her excitedly as well as dutifully and running to the left, where she had come from. Willow was wise enough to follow her and soon caught sight of a tall brunet figure that she could easily recognize as her dad's. She couldn't even say anything; his blue eyes had found her immediately as he stomped towards her and pulled her into a bear hug.

The air was pushed out of her body and Willow gave her very best at not dying. She almost felt her spine crack; but she couldn't help but relax into the warmth emitting his body. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his waist and stroked his back with her thumb.  
"God, Willow," he mumbled into her hair with sincere emotion; relief, disbelief and concern, and pulled away from her to look her in the face. "Can't even keep you in a damn bed." She chuckled lightly and shrugged with a drained smile on her face.

"Last time." _That you catch me._

Her father sighed dramatically, not knowing what he was supposed to do with this daughter of his, and to be quite frank, he was not in the state to scold her the way his irrational side felt like she deserved to. He was too relieved and stirred up to hold a long speech to his teenage daughter who wasn't responsible for her sleepwalking anyway. Instead, he scanned her body for injuries and anything other out of place. Apart from the fact that she was obviously in her pajamas and only a jumper, her feet caught his attention. To be exact, the ridiculous socks she was wearing. He looked up at her in disbelief and was ready to comment on this fashion disaster, as she raised her finger warningly.

"Don't. You. Dare."

* * *

"Dad. Dad! Come on, please listen to- Aw, come on, don't ignore me!" Stiles yelled at his father's back and threw his arms up in desperation while clumsily following his every step.

"Stiles, no." Sheriff Stilinski had abruptly stopped and turned to face his twitchy son who was, again, not leaving him alone. He furrowed his light brows at the concerned look in his son's eyes and sighed. "Look. This is a crime scene, we have yet to find a dead body, deal with traumatized teenagers, find a missing girl and on top of that make a warrant for a potential murderer. You… You go to your friends, okay? Consult them. Help them and let them help you. I don't believe that this has left you unharmed." The sheriff raised his finger as a warning, as Stiles tried to contradict and keep snooping in his father's business. The finger made him close his mouth, look to the side for a second and then look back to his father in confusion.

"A girl is missing?!" Sheriff Stilinski resisted the urge of throwing his head back into his neck and instead rubbed the bridge of his nose as he looked at his son.

"Later, alright?"

"Is it that girl?" Stiles pointed at the girl in the funny socks behind his dad, making him turn around in confusion. She definitely did not look like a deputy and not like any other person who would be supposed to be here either. Partly covered in dirt, a mess of hair on her head and not being dressed for outdoors, this looked like a book illustration of a missing person. His dad glared back at him, reintroducing him to his finger while walking off.

" _Later_ , Stiles."

"I didn't say anything!" he called back, pulling the sides of his lips down in defeat. But he couldn't spend any thoughts on the reunited family, as he saw Scott striding off in a manner that did not look healthy at all. "Wha- Wait! Scott! Hold up!"

* * *

G'day, ladies and gents!

Now this is story is my first in many different ways. (aehm, two.)

First of all, this is my first story in the Teen Wolf fandom, which is so interesting for all of you. Oh yes, I can imagine.  
However, with this story I want to address my adopted son Stiles who deserves happiness. And if the canon can't give him that, then there is our fanfiction army to patch up our hearts.

As another point, I wanted to draw attention to the fact that English is **not my first language**.  
This being the first fanfiction ever that I have originally written in English, I am a little insecure about the outcome.  
It's not overall terrible I suppose, but I may use terms or expressions in wrong ways, mess up the grammar here or there when trying to make some more complex sentence structures or just sound a little too clumsy.

In this case, _whatever_ comes to your attention, please tell me! I'd love to improve my creative writing skills and am thankful for every point :D

Also, yes, yes, I apologise for the lack of Stiles action in this chapter. This was more of an introduction to my OC/the story itself.  
But do not worry, lads, Stiles will have his moment in the next chapter.

Now, I usually write quite long chapters with about 6 - 8k words. This is a very short chapter to me but I'm curious about your opinions, whether you prefer long chapters or not.

Having said that, I don't wanna keep y'all from reading my, uhm, stuff.

Have fun!

PS: I've been playing around with Polyvore when I procrastinated on writing. You can check it out on my profile :D

See ya!


	2. Happy Little Accidents

With a high-pitched clank that Willow paid no attention to, Matthew placed a plate in front of her with a little too much force, as usual. Echo, who was sitting attentively at her side, twitched her ears at the sudden noise. Willow's half-opened eyes, that had been lying on the wood of the table before, scanned the roll that had taken its place and she then lifted her gaze to look at her brother. The 21-year-old's eyes were as piercingly blue and feminine as their father's but the sharp look he shot at her wasn't half as intimidating, so she mentally shrugged it off and returned the look with expectantly raised eyebrows. He grumbled a little at her little guilt.

"Are you ever gonna dye your hair back?" he asked and used a small movement of his head to point at the mess of hair that she hadn't bothered to tame. "You looked better with your black hair." Willow cocked an eyebrow at this turn of conversation – she was expecting him to bring up her nightly absence or her first day of school or the fact that she wasn't dressed yet. Or just anything remotely relevant.

"No," was her simple response that made her brother furrow his eyebrows. He hated her matte grey hair, he had hated the idea from the beginning to the end and had tried everything to dissuade her from getting her way with it. With poor results, obviously.

He sighed annoyedly and looked to the side, only to look back at her and raise his hands to help his point. "Look, Will, this doesn't suit you, alright? It's not you. You looked great with your natural hair and all you are achieving with this is drawing a lot of attention. The bad kind of attention."

She pursed her lips and looked to the fridge that was chilling at her side (unhealthily proud of this pun), contemplating the amount of force that it would take her to whack it over his brunet head. She'd had enough of these kinds of conversations.

"I don't care." She looked him back in the eyes with a pleading look. She really, _really_ didn't have the energy to discuss her hair color at the moment. By the time she had arrived at home, the clock had hit 5 am, she had been awake for another hour and her alarm rang at 7 again which left her with one hour of light sleep. She was _not_ in the mood for this.

"Are you being a rebellious teenager? Is this what this is about?" he asked in something that was close to desperation. Willows entire facial expression collapsed and she found herself in a very dangerous kind of mood. Her eyebrows were furrowed to the fullest extent and she could feel the wing of her nose twitch for a second.

"What would I have to rebel against?" she asked in a low voice, alerting her brother that this was a topic he better not dare to touch. He knew he shouldn't and he exhaled heavily as an attempt to tame his own temper and avoid saying anything out of line. They held each other's gazed for a few seconds in which Matthew realized that he had already crossed the line; she never looked at him that way. It was hard enough find an expression in her eyes other than glazed absence but here he saw a glimpse of a warning behind the russet of her orbs. He sighed and shifted in his chair, adopting a more casual stance.

"What happened last night?" Changing the topic seemed like the right thing to do. He saw the change in her posture as well as her eyes and felt relief wash over his conscious. She shrugged as she took a bite off her roll and looked him back in the eyes, pulling down the corners of her mouth as an 'I don't know'.

"I don't remember much. All I know is that I woke up walking down a road and a police car pulling up next to me." She took another bite and resumed with her mouth full. "They drove me to the high school where Dad and Echo were waiting and then he drove me home." She swallowed the bit. "And then I changed and went back to bed." Matthew looked at her with the wing of his nose raised in disgust.

"Gosh, don't speak with your mouth full, you're supposed to be a lady." She cocked her eyebrow in amusement, knowing he didn't mean it entirely. "But yeah, Dad didn't leave the poor sheriff alone and followed him wherever he went. That then turned out to be the high school. Do you know what happened there?" Willow shook her head.

"No, but it seems like classes are taking place anyway." She gestured at her sitting at the table. "Obviously." Matthew nodded in acknowledgment. The siblings sat in front of each other, continuing their breakfast in silence, just the way Willow liked it. When she had finished her roll, she got up and placed her plate next to the sink, and left the room, mumbling not so under her breath: "You need to shave."  
She didn't hear the rasping of Echo on the wooden floor but was sure that the Labrador lady was following her.

* * *

It was the first time in forever that Willow actually took the time to scan her (yet) messy wardrobe for a well-wrought outfit and cringed at the sight of it. She hated when her wardrobe looked like this, but she has only thrown in bits and pieces of clothing from different boxes that hadn't fit in her suitcases. Knowing herself, she wouldn't change this mess for another month; although it did seem like she would get to it earlier. She had hoped for something like a magical fresh start, moving out of the big city and back in this little town she was born in. She was late for the beginning of the school year but this didn't bother her at all; it was last night's event that stirred her up.

She wanted it gone. This stupid, unfair tingling. She didn't know where it came from, she didn't know what it meant or what it wanted her to do. It was just a nasty, time-consuming nuisance. Most of the time, she did well with ignoring it and going on with her life, but then sometimes, it was so persistent that she had to give in if she didn't want to lose her mind. Last night for instance. However, whatever happened yesterday at the school had definitely something to do with it – and she would stay the hell away from that kind of trouble. As long as the tingling was gone, she was happy. Otherwise, she'd tidy up her closet; she was a stress cleaner.

Being dressed up for once left a weird feeling in Willow's stomach. She figured it was all the fab she was emitting. She had picked out a blue jeans that was ripped on the knees – fun fact, she actually fell and that had made her fashionable –, a simple and loose grey t-shirt as well as a denim jacket that was a little too big, and grey block heel boots. She tied her messy hair in a ponytail, put a laced black choker on and felt hella fabulous when she checked herself out in the big mirror of her closet doors. She felt her inner hipster today. The look of her russet eyes locked with Echo's brown ones through the mirror and made Willow twirl around and excitedly stalk towards the dog that was lying lazily on her bed. Echo kept her head down between her paws but her wiggling tail gave away her mutual excitement as Willow jumped next to her on the bed and ruffled her between her ears.

"You be good today, alright girl?" Willow purred in the most ridiculous voice that she could possibly put on. "You know you're my favorite, right? You know that? Right? But don't let the cat hear," she continued and nodded at her dog with every sentence until she pulled back confusedly, noticing the unpleasant itch that was creeping up in her throat. A very distinct sign of her loss of self-control. She cleared her throat awkwardly and patted Echo's head now awkwardly. Stopping the ridiculous voices was a serious issue that Willow just could not get sorted.  
"However, I gotta leave. I'll see you after school, poophead. Yes, I've called you poophead. Don't think I've forgotten that incident."

A little wince was the response to that.

A few minutes later, Willow had descended the stairs without falling on her face and held the doorknob in her hand as a very familiar as well as annoying finger poked into her shoulder and made her turn around. She looked straight into Matthew's blue eyes which were looking down on her expectantly and holding up Echo's leash, drawing Willow's attention down to the happily panting dog.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" Matthew asked with a crooked smile on his face but didn't bother to hide the hint of concern flowing through him.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Willow remembered and smiled at him, "I haven't. Good day." But nah-ah. Matthew grabbed her arm before she could jump out the front door and looked at her lazily. She copied his gaze with remarkable accuracy and didn't even consider his offer for a second. No way she was taking Echo to school.

"No way you're leaving without Echo for school."

"Funny that you say it this way, because-"

"Will, I'm for real here. You're not leaving without her. What are you even thinking?" Echo sensed the tenseness between the siblings and slowly sat down next to Willow, clumsily stroking her leg with her face. The full-grown and frankly impressively tall dog was rather stroking her hip than her leg and allowed Willow to pet her back without bending down.

"What, and give away everything? What are _you_ thinking, Matt? I'm not gonna walk into another school only to become the patronized weirdo that's gotta be guided through life. Nah-ah, forget it. You know I'm good out there by myself. As much as I would love to take this dork everywhere I go, school is excluded from that. Now, again, _good day._ " Without having stopped to pet the happy dog at her side, she dropped into a curtsey and turned around to leave, this way effectively ignoring whatever her brother might have had to say (and was probably saying right now).

Matthew looked after his baby sister mindlessly strolling down the street, ready to strangle her. He didn't know just for how long he'd be able to uphold the 'nice way' that his father had scolded him to use when dealing with Willow. Sometimes, he thought their father was way too protective about her. She wasn't daddy's helpless little girl anymore; she was an annoying teenager now. A stubborn, imprudent and cocky teenager. He snorted before defeatedly shaking his head and closing the door in front of Echo's face, who had been resisting to follow Willow longingly by repeatedly sitting down and standing up again, accompanied by occasional whimpers.

"Come here, girl," Matthew sighed and kneeled down to her to remove both the leash the harness from her body. The latter reading 'Hearing Dog' in capital letters.

Willow better not fuck this up.

* * *

Okay. Okay. She had definitely _slightly_ overdone the cockiness with her brother, but without doing so, he probably would've never let her leave on her own. Now it was up to her to prove a point. This was the first time in a very long time that Willow had left for her daily routine, especially school, without her little helper at her side. But she had absolutely thought this through and was convinced that she could go through high school without letting anyone know. Lipreading was a breeze and as long as she could see everyone's faces when talking to her, she would be good to go.

But hey, a little social anxiety never killed nobody. She was prepared for unwanted encounter with others of her species and proudly took the earphones out of her pockets, placing them in her ears where they were visible thanks to her ponytail. Nothing screamed 'don't talk to me' more than headphones in ones ear. Willow felt like a genius.

She didn't bother to plug the headphones into her phone, instead she tucked the end of them into the left pocket of her jacket in which she kept all kinds of useless little things that she could fiddle around with to ease the nervous feeling in her guts at times. Old receipts that were balled up to minimum size, little hair ties, bobby pins and now the plug of her earphones, too. She breathed in and out, ignoring the usual soreness in her tired eyes and following the way to the high school that she remembered vividly. Now she had to cross the street. With her hands being dug deep into the pockets of her denim jeans, Willow made the first mistake of the day that not even a toddler would have made.

Crossing the street without looking.

She didn't expect a car on these suburban streets, given the time of the day and the futile memory of yesterday night when there were no cars around, either. Of course, it should have been like that in the morning when people went to work, too. Duuh.

Obviously, Willow didn't hear the approaching vehicle, and the driver that was determinedly talking on the phone did not expect somebody to just cross the street with their back to the road. Seeing only a speedy movement from the corner of her eye, Willow turned her head to face the car that was driving right towards her, the driver not having noticed her yet. Willow's mind was completely blank as she locked eyes with the driver and the whole scenery started feeling like somebody curbed the speed of time. Willows fingers twitched while her mind started to panic; her useless, usually awfully slow mind was first to react for the first time. She had to move; she realized that, she knew that, she tried to act on that, but her body wasn't quite ready yet. She didn't know where to go; the guy would definitely change course or stop or whatever but she couldn't read what direction he would go. The whole thing played out terribly slowly, leaving Willow in the middle of the streets, wide eyes and mouth agape.

At least the boy seemed to possess some kind of reflex. The second he took in the sight in front of him, he didn't even bother saying another word into the phone. He instinctively tossed it over into the passenger seat, leaving his friend hanging, to jerk the steering wheel to the side and slam his foot on the brakes. His previously wide eyes were now shut tight as he car came to a rigid stop, almost making him hit the wheel with his head.

"Stiles? Stiles, you there?" the quiet voice in the phone was ceremonially ignored as Stiles' tensed up body lowered his head to the wheel to rest on his hands. Holy freaking hell. He almost didn't realize what had actually happened as he yanked his head up again to look for the awfully familiar-looking girl on the streets.

She was still staring at the jeep that had just passed her with murderous speed and was now standing still a few feet ahead. She gulped noisily and just… stared. From this transverse angle, she couldn't see the driver in the car but she also didn't really bother to look for him. She had never been in a situation like this and suddenly, she felt horribly small. Just a few minutes earlier she had swaggered round and about herself being capable of taking care of herself – actually, she had been doing that for years now – but only a split second in the actual world, on her own, and she had nearly perished. What angered her the most, though, was not herself being foolish enough to blindly cross a street, no; it was the fact that, looking right at the jeep's bumper, that could have smashed her head down to the concrete and left it as a puddle of jello, she hadn't done _anything_. She had just stood there, looking right into the windshield like a catatonic, frightened little deer. She clenched her fists in her pockets and lowered her angry as well as shocked eyes. She felt like she had just received a bitter slap of reality. She should just walk back home, who was she kidding? Angry that there wasn't anything on the clean street for her to kick, she kicked the air and grunted grumpily under her breath, not hearing the door that was frantically opened and then slammed shut.

"He- Hey!" Stiles screamed as he stumbled towards her, literally, balancing his falling body out in the last second and continuing his short sprint towards Willow who had still been staring daggers into the concrete. Noticing the rash movement, she raised her eyes and looked at the boy in front of her, panic written all over his face. He abruptly stopped right in front of her, at a proximity that Willow would usually entitle as 'too close'; especially when he started scanning her body for any injuries. Willow's awkward ass was royally flustered at that and couldn't help but duck her head a little to hesitantly look back at him through her eyelashes. She almost felt bad for thinking this right after almost being hit by his jeep but the boy in front of her, who was now looking right into her eyes with concern, was a hell of a cutie pie. Just a second after this struck her, the color of her face seemed to ditch today's job and leave; he was looking at her for a reason with this expectant look in his eyes whose color she didn't dare to label just yet. Her head went into overdrive as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and stared at him without a clue about what he would like to know. He must have said something. Crap. Hadn't she said herself, as long as she saw one's face, she would be okay? To hell with her dumbness.

"No." Why did she say that. Why. Why. Actually, logically, it was the right thing to do, wasn't it? No meant no promises, no commitments and declining everything for him to leave seemed like the absolutely right thing to do.  
He looked at her, a little taken aback by the weird way her 'no' had come out, something she was completely oblivious to; she didn't have the nerve to concentrate on her tone right now. Stiles, though, came to a different conclusion.

"Maybe you should- eh," she stuttered, jerking back and forth and into different directions while bracing up to invade this girl's personal space by taking the headphones out of her ears, so she could actually hear him and herself. She observed his weird movements with awkwardly furrowed eyebrows and watched his indecisive hands that were reaching up to the sides of her head; instinctively, she drew her head back, only her head, and just as slowly as he came forward, making her expose the familiar double chin that she had named Patty. Unfortunately, her spine reached its limits and stopped her head from moving further, letting Stiles involuntarily place his fingers around the little headphones in her ears and slowly remove them. It was only then when his intentions occurred to Willow and she said goodbye to Patty.

"Are you hurt?" he asked carefully, and this time Willow paid the appropriate amount of attention to the movement of his lips, strangely enjoying to watch them. She looked back up to his face, forcing a little smile onto her lips.

"I'm not hurt, I'm okay," she answered sincerely. "Just a little shaken. Don't worry." The forced smile on her face turned into an honest, lop-sided one as she raised one eyebrow with apology written all over her face. He seemed a little soothed at her even tone and took a step back, nervously massaging the back of his neck.

"God, I'm sorry, I don't know how that happened. One second I look away and when I look back, there you are. Seriously, I'm so sorry." Willow looked at the words that escaped his expressive lips so quickly, she almost couldn't keep up, and she was seriously confused for a moment: _he_ was sorry?

"Are you kidding me?" an incredulous chuckle left her throat. "You didn't do anything wrong; in fact, all you did was perfectly right. I was the one who just walked on the street, I was the one who didn't see you, and when I did, didn't move," she went on, gesturing way too much to emphasize her words and guilt, which was, on second thought, not a too smart thing to do. She should do it the city-way and blame him and stalk away. But that wasn't her way, she supposed. "It's really my fault, I'm sorry, is your jeep alright?"

Stiles chuckled, a little happy that somebody was concerned for his metal girlfriend. Trying to be a little too smooth, he flipped his hand exaggeratedly in a throwing motion and smirked foolishly into space.  
"Aaah, don't worry, she's fine. There's got to happen a little more to hurt that old baby."

"She?" Willow asked, her smile unsure as she tilted her head a little to the side and threw a look at the blue jeep for not more than a second. If she didn't trust her lipreading skills so much, she would have almost thought she got something wrong. Stiles' smirk froze on his face, the wings of his nose widened and his eyes moved slowly around while his mouth hang loose with the tip of his tongue out; clearly looking for an answer that didn't make him look like a weirdo in front of the not so strange girl. She made him jump out of his hectic thoughts by an entertained giggle that escaped her throat by the look of his face. He looked down on her, confused, taking in her rather funny looking laugh-face. The sides of her mouth were pointy in her wide smile and she wrinkled her nose a little. It was weird, he had never seen somebody wrinkle their nose while laughing but the face she made seemed oddly sincere. Seeing this as the perfect chance to escape the she-topic and avoid making an idiot of himself, he changed the subject.

"So, where were you off to?" he asked quickly and was happy to see that Willow didn't linger over her previous question. She shook her head like she had just remembered something (that being having to go to school) and quickly took a step back.

"Oh, crap," she cursed. "School. I have to go to school." Stiles raised his eyes in surprise.

"Beacon Hills High School?" he asked rather rhetorically, already being sure of her answer; Beacon Hills was small and the chance that a girl his age went to his high school was pretty damn high. He took a look at the watch that was wrapped around his wrist and raised his eyebrows in surprise, almost cursing.

"Holy hell, classes start in 10 minutes." His head shot back to Willow, a thought occurring to him. "Did you intend to walk?"

"Uhm, yeah, kind of," she admitted, really freaking puzzled by the time that the clock on her phone's screen had confirmed. She should have left like an hour ago; she really needed to watch the clock in the morning. Stiles gave her a perplex look with a little twitch of his head.

"You, eh… You wanna have a ride?" He internally slapped himself for the indecisive tone of his voice. But well, he didn't almost run over girls on a daily basis, only to offer them a ride. That, though, was replaced by an, admittedly, stunned look as he actually saw the girl nodding; usually, they ran off and that was something that Stiles had subconsciously expected. But paying attention to the current situation, she would have been an idiot for declining this offer.

* * *

Stiles' grip on the wheel tightened and loosened at intervals of seconds and he found himself stretching his neck a little too often. His gaze flickered to Willow for only a split-second and shot back to the road when he noticed that her face was turned towards him and she was actually looking at him. Okay. Okay. He needed to get a grip and man up here. There was a girl sitting in his jeep. A girl. In his jeep. He was already raring to tell Scott about this and watch him lose his shit and probably not believe him. Although, Stiles was pretty damn sure that Scott had no mind to spare for this happy little accident of his as he was too concerned with Allison breaking up with him. And of course, the full moon arising – that little detail was an extra for the whole luxury of drama. Having all this in the back of his mind, plus Derek now being a fugitive, the alpha being the nutjob it always was, Jackson, his dad, and all the horrible things happening at the moment, Stiles felt his tense body lighten a bit at the girl on his passenger seat. Even if her female presence did make him feel uneasy – it was the good kind. It felt good to feel like a teenager again, with trivial problems like what to say to a pretty girl.

If there weren't the little detail that she was familiar. It took him only a few seconds to recognize her as the girl that had went missing the night before. It was a little hard to forget someone with grey hair, or was it silver? When he had gotten home and tried to avoid questions from his father about Derek and the incident, he had neatly redirected the attention off his humble self and onto the girl's case. There wasn't much to it, apparently. However, his dad hadn't had a final talk to the immediate family or the girl herself to close the case, due to the little 'Derek is a serial killer' news, but she had turned up again the same night unharmed and that seemed to be enough for now. However, Stiles was still struggling for a topic of a conversation because the silence was incredibly onerous.

"So, you went missing yesterday, huh?" Stiles blared nonchalantly and immediately felt the urge to punch himself in the face. Oh yeah, great work, Stilinski, bring up the most private topic there might be. Willow's entire body convulsed at the words that came out of his mouth and she stared at him with wide eyes. How the hell did he know? Was she on some news or something? She knew Beacon Hills was small but this place couldn't be pintsized enough to make news out of her nightly hike.

"Uh, yeah," she answered, trying to sound kind of chirpy and not like she's got something to hide. "That happened." Great job, Maker, master of conversation. Her eyes flew back to Stiles to not miss any kind of sound he might make. He nodded a little too hard with a smirk on his face that looked so painful, it made Willow cringe _for_ him. Now, this was awkward.

"But you were found again, so that's something," Stiles cheered with so much force in his words, spreading his arms, he felt like Coach Finstock when he tried to motivate the team on good terms. And it also made him hate his own guts. Could this conversation be any more cringeworthy? Willow let out a little half-hearted cheer that did sound a lot like she would like to jump out of this car and walk to school, instead of spending another second next to Stiles Stilinski in a gas-fueled metal container. And just for the record, yes, she would.

The next few seconds were drained in silence in which Willow kept clumsily staring out of the window, right next to his face. She felt horribly anxious with the boy in this car, especially at this turn of events and the festive awkwardness that made her want to peel the skin off her face. In comparison to Stiles though, she wasn't too concerned with the conversation's subject with the cute boy; she was dreadfully anxious of being weird. And weird in the kind of way where he says something and she doesn't answer because she dared to look away from his face for a second. Oh no, she was having none of that. She would not miss a single word coming out of his mouth, she would not be the handicapped weirdo.

Instead she'd be the weirdo only, because Stiles was getting terribly uncomfortable under her gaze that he interpreted as her wanting him to keep talking.

"So…" he shifted bumpily in his seat, his mind completely blank. Aw, come on, he wanted to have some intel he could tell Scott someday. When would something like this ever happen again? He wanted a girl story, too. Here was his chance and he really couldn't estimate how long it would take his dateless butt to get another chance of something like this. He was ready to raise his voice for another failure to take place but surprisingly, she beat him to the punch.

"Sleepwalking," was all she said, and she couldn't even tell why she felt like telling him. She hated the idea of somebody revealing her secret, her actually knowing very well that she was walking around in the dark, not absently roaming at all, and she wanted to put an explanation for it into his head to avoid him thinking about what she might have done. She also wanted to overcome this nagging silence that was torturing the usual anxiety of her mind, and of course, she did not want this boy to say another thing that will break the upcoming sociability. He was way too cute to deter her just yet.

"You… sleepwalk?" he asked gingerly, his body finally relaxed and his caramel eyes lying on her. She shrugged with a helplessly raised eyebrow as he looked back at the road.

"Yeah, sometimes. Not too often." For the first time, she averted her eyes to the road ahead of them, being deeper in thought than she should be. Thinking back to the horribly hurt man that was still present in her mind, she muttered: "But I get the feeling that I'll be walking a lot in the future."

"What did you say?" Stiles' head snapped back at her, looking at her with a tentative expression that seemed to grow solid on his face. Being in the middle of all the supernatural drama made him a little more sensitive and aware towards things that were a little out of place or fishy or just weird. And what she had just mumbled, or just the mere _way_ she had said it, caught his attention on another level than just 'a cute girl is talking to me'. His eyes rested on her for a few moments, waiting for an answer but she didn't seem to care to react. Instead, she kept her eyes on the road and only looked back at him when she noticed his persistent gaze.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you say something?" She knew she should have never looked away from his face. She screwed her face to an apologizing smile and scratched her cheek. "I'm sorry, I was, uhm, kind of deep in thought." And the panic grew. He definitely knew now that something about her was off.

"I see," he replied, not sure if he should buy it or not. But she looked genuinely surprised and sorry and a tad embarrassed, too. "Are you nervous?"

"Hm?" she blinked confusedly, suddenly being incredibly interested in touching her own fingers and oh look, there was a new scratch, probably from the woods. She felt like he saw right through her and she hated it. But she was way too awkward to snap back at him, instead she kept fiddling around with her fingers and thinking of an explanation for her admittedly weird behavior.

"Yeah, I mean, kind of, you know. It's kind of hard not to be nervous, uhm, but I didn't think you would notice this easily. I mean, it's not nervousness," she laughed frantically. "It's just, _you know_ , being in a strange guy's car, hoping I won't say anything stupid, hoping he won't take advantage of the situation and abduct me," and there goes another frantic laughter as she crossed her fingers and would very much like to stab them into her eyes. "Not that I think you intend to do that, don't get me wrong, you seem like a nice guy with his heart in the right spot and all but ya know, a girl's gotta worry. However, to get back to the previous question and the reason I am making a fool of myself: no, I am not nervous, why are you asking?"

So, just to be in the clear here: Willow would like a vibrant pink gravestone that would totally be the shit on the graveyard; also, she would wish for it to not say anything about her cause of death, because that was this bad, _BAD_ conversation she was having with the guy whose name she didn't even know. Oh, she hoped so much that he wouldn't be in any of her classes. Scratch that, she would love him to be a senior and leave the school as soon as possible. Or, of course, she could go back to her first plan and just die. Yeah, that'd be good.

Stiles was just as taken aback as she was, although there was a puddle of understanding and relating bubbling inside of him. She reminded him very much of himself right now, especially when he talked to Lydia and rambled on and on about pointless things until he managed to get to the point. He had actually wanted to know if she was nervous for her first day of school but she already looked as embarrassed as it got and he didn't have the heart to clarify that. Instead, he just went with it.

"Oh yeah, I get that. One time this guy actually thought he could drive a detour to my house and I wouldn't notice. Men, right?" He swung his head towards her and gestured in an exaggeratedly feminine manner. The bright smile that appeared on her face made him genuinely smile. And it was only now that he noticed the tender blush that was residing on her cheeks, obviously emphasizing the previous embarrassment. It was a warm and proud feeling that was making him puff his chest a little at this satisfying success to cheer her up. She was eternally thankful for this save.

"Say, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked you yet," Stiles brought up, eyes back on the road. She was looking at him, visibly more relaxed and with a now soft smile on her lips as she conspicuously examined the side profile of his face. She liked his nose. She liked it a lot and she would love to touch it.

"Willow," she said calmly, her voice having turned into a placid tune. "My name is Willow."

* * *

Heeelloo and welcome back!

I'm seriously so thankful for the follows, favorites and the guest review that absolutely made my day! Thank you!

This chapter is a little shorter than I had expected and I had planned to put more into it but when I wrote this, this seemed like such a nice cut. So I'll put the rest in another chapter and upload it as soon as I can.

Personally, I was very excited to share these news about Willow and I had planned to reveal this a lot later but then I thought nah.

Also, I have a proper cover for the story now and all **credits** for this photograph go to the deviantartist michellis13. Check out her work, it's really cool!

Hope you liked the chapter. Let me know if you did :P


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